The Day The Music Died
by GGUC
Summary: It's been 10 years since Santana was in high school. A lot has changed. But after a reunion with the Gleeks she, along with the others learn of a tragedy that sends her reeling. WARNING: Character Death (no it isn't Santana)


**AN:/ I'm sorry this isn't the update that most of you were looking for in my other stories but this idea came to me and I kind of just had an itch to write it. I'm not anywhere near a Gleek—no offense to those who are—hell I haven't even really watched the show but I know enough to know the gist of it and I felt like this was something interesting. Plus y'know first Oneshot—please contain your excitement.**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters etc. Because if I did it would've involved far more lesbian couples. **_

It took Santana almost an hour to even find the stupid thing. The dusty old book she hadn't cracked open in the last ten years. The Latina was beginning to wonder if she hadn't left it back at her parent's house in Lima when she finally found it in a long sealed box from her high school years in the back of her closet.

The years since she had left Lima had been good to Santana; she still saw Brittany fairly regularly in spite of the distance between the two—New York and California _are_ fairly far away from each other—and her job was going great. She was starting to work towards her second album now, a follow up to her debut album which had done exceptionally well. The Glee club had finally gotten together just a week ago to celebrate actually.

That's when Santana, and the majority of the Glee club for that matter, had heard the news. A girl they barely even remembered they thought about her so little was dead. For the past 3 years. It had shocked the hell out of most of them. How could she be dead? Better yet how on Earth could they only now be hearing about it? She had died three_**years**_ ago.

, the unfortunate bearer of the news, had assumed they all would've heard already. As it was he who had foolishly mentioned her, unaware that even her ex-boyfriends hadn't heard of her passing; had barely even thought of her in the last ten years. Shockingly enough the only club member, other than Schuster, who had heard of the passing and even attended the funeral, was the girl who everyone thought hated the now deceased member the most.

Quinn of all people was the one to attend her funeral. Quinn was the one who had actually thought of the girl after high school and maintained any kind of contact. Santana herself hadn't seen the girl since university almost eight years ago. They had been living together in New York for a time, along with Kurt, but after they all went their separate ways…contact was rapidly lost.

Blowing the dust of the book, Santana cracked the cover page and began searching through the class pages looking for the dead girl. Finally the Latina found it; a small square with a light blue background containing a face she hadn't seen in years. Brown hair fell, gently curled onto the girl's shoulders, her brown eyes twinkling brightly at the camera—full of life and anticipation of the future. A smile split her lips showing her straight, white teeth and the image looked for all the world like a happy girl ready to chase her dreams.

Tears pricked the corners of Santana's eyes as she just stared down at the image. It was hard to believe that of their entire club only one of them had thought of the girl who used to lead them through hell and high water for the sake of a show. And for it to have been _Quinn Fabray_ of all people…unbelievable! Finn or Puckerman, hell even Kurt would make sense; Tina maybe or Mercedes…but _Quinn_? The same Quinn who had tormented the brunette on a regular basis and made life as hellish as possible for the petit girl…had been the only one to care enough to keep any contact.

Schuster didn't really count to the Latina because from what she gathered he'd been receiving emails from his now dead student, but not really paying a whole lot of attention to them. It had been a notification that she'd left him a large portion of her sheet music for the Glee clubs use that had alerted him to her passing. That was almost four months after she died.

Santana took a shuddering breath as a chill crept up her spine at the thought. How must she have felt when she died? How must she have felt knowing that of her entire friend circle from high school only one of them, and her former tormentor at that, had cared enough to keep in contact? To even send the occasional passing 'Hi, how's it going?'. It was insane.

So now Santana was sitting here, alone in her apartment looking at a year book she hadn't opened in years at the face of a girl she used to know. A girl she used to throw slushies on and call horrible names. A girl that she had never taken the time to really care about after she stopped being a regular presence in her life.

No one but Quinn had even seen the brunette after Santana and Kurt had gone their separate ways. Not even Schuster, so how were they supposed to know if anything went wrong? There was no way to tell from simple emails—emails the group had guiltily realized they had left unanswered for the first few months after high school and that had slowed until they eventually stopped coming.

Santana had been talking at length to Quinn about it now. What had happened? Where? When? Was there a grave site she could visit? What about the brunette's family? The questions went on and on for the longest time.

The answers had been unpleasant at best. A dark night, a wet road, the screech of tires and a painful, bone crunching slam. Breathing in death through star dust. It had been a Thursday, because it's always a Thursday; around 11 at night not far from her apartment. There had been no family to learn of it at first as, again, unbeknownst to the rest of the Glee club, the girl's fathers had died only a few years prior. The first killed in a vicious hate crime back in Lima 4 years before his baby girl and the second followed his lover to the grave not two years later via heart attack.

It ended up being Quinn, one of the late girl's former teachers turned mentor, and the brunette's mother who took care of the arrangements. According to Quinn she had never in her life seen Shelby Corcoran more beside herself, but then neither woman had seen Cassandra July more beside herself with the exception of that one awful haunting video. The funeral had been small apparently. Less than ten people in attendance; nothing like the funeral the girl would've envisioned for herself back in high school.

Santana looked again at the photo in the yearbook and sighed. She couldn't believe it. Of all people it was her that died first. Young and barely remembered. It was so surreal. To think of all of them it was Rachel Berry that died.

**AN:/ So what'd you think? Yes, I did purposefully avoid Rachel's name till the end. I wrote this in less than an hour though so the grammar etc. is most likely horrendous, but I just wanted to give this ago. Hope you enjoyed. **

**~GGUC **


End file.
